Archive
by Zlo1313
Summary: "Sooner or later we've all got to let go of our past"- Dan Brown. Matt never wanted to let go of his past. He didn't want to forget that Mail Jeevas once existed. OC warning, slight AU.
1. What's A Name?

**Prologue to my origin story of Matt. Wasn't happy with my previous one, so I'm redoing it! **

**I do not own Death Note!**

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What's so dangerous about a name? Why did he suddenly have to drop the closest thing of his mother he had left? Maybe that was why: to forget his mother, his brother. He couldn't remember his father, only recalling a fuzzy shape of a man. But, he had been there. He liked his name. Mail Jeevas. Like a butler. He wouldn't mind being a butler as long as his boss wasn't a jerk. He had always been more of a follower than a leader. Not too many original ideas in his head. At least, none that he cared to share.

He got sidetracked easily. What had he been talking about before? Names? Right, _his_ name. He didn't care about anyone else's name but his. It was so presumptuous of this elderly man to think he would so easily get rid of his name and replace it with a fraud. Matt. That was his new name. Simple, bland, boring Matt. Matt the mighty. Matt the mouse. He would rather be a mouse than a mighty anything. Too much work, too many expectations. He would get by with the bare minimum.

The strange man quoted Dan Brown and Matt disagreed. The past, bad or good, was still the past. He wanted to look back fondly. Recall his mother, her sweet face, his brother, hardened. Gentle hands caressing his hair, tender kisses, safe arms keeping the monsters out. It wasn't fair.

All those things no longer existed. They were in the past, his past. At the time, his childlike mind hadn't been able to process what happened. If it was as mature as he was now, maybe he wouldn't have been so selfish. If only he had perished with his beloved mother and brother. If only he could take back his last words. If only, if only...

One who looks back at the past can only sigh, "If only."


	2. Loss

**Mayu Tsugumi- Thanks for the review! Your English is pretty good, btw ^^**

**Imaginefun- Geethanks ^^**

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The strong scent of breakfast stirred him from his deep sleep. He sat up with a drawn out yawn, his hair in disarray. His door was opened a crack, just the way he liked it, and a freckled face very much like his own peeked through the crack.

"Mail, you up?" The door was pushed further open to reveal his older brother, Gear.

Mail nodded and untangled himself from his sheets, evidence of his violent tossing and turning. Gear waited patiently for him to toddle over to him as a small hand wrapped around his index finger.

His brother was nearly ten years older than him. Unlike Mail's russet colored hair and dark blue eyes, Gear had brown hair and green eyes. Their mother's eyes. He knew Gear was absurdly tall. Gear's friends made fun of him for it, though what they said was said in jest. Personally, Mail liked climbing up his brother's leg and see how far he could get before he was put back down on the ground.

His mother, Ghislaine, was running about the kitchen, doing a million things at once. She twittered nervously when the bacon began to burn and dumped the crisp meat onto a plate. She blew a ruby colored curl out of her face and smiled at her sons.

"Good morning." She said.

Mail released Gear's hand and sat in his chair, his nose level with the table. "Good morning, mommy."

She placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him and he dug in, inhaling the eggs first. He took a bite of bacon, wrinkling his nose. They were too crisp for his liking.

"I'm sorry, Mail. I know you don't like them crispy." She apologized, seeing his expression as she set Gear's plate in front of him.

"It's okay." He felt bad. She was trying, at least.

She sat across from him and Gear, a coffee mug clutched in her hands. Gear scraped up the last of his food and Mail let him. He stared at his miniscule family and wrinkled his brow. It was the first time he had truly wondered about his father. Where was he? Why wasn't he here with his family? Did he know about Mail?

"Hey, mommy?" Ghislaine's emerald eyes swept over to him.

"Yes, Mail?"

"Where's daddy?" It was suddenly silent at their table. Mail looked at Gear, who was gripping his fork tightly, the tendons in his fingers pulled taut. Ghislaine looked uncomfortable, tucking a curl behind her butterfly shaped ear.

"I didn't want him near you. He's a bad man."

He didn't think it was true. His mother was a good person, why wasn't his dad? "Why?"

"Mail, I don't want to talk about this." Her tone turned sharp, surprising him.

"But, I wanna know my daddy! It isn't fair! Everyone else knows their daddy, so why can't I?!" He was blinking back tears, hating the fact his mother was keeping his father from him.

She screeched, "He didn't want you! He didn't want any of us!"

Mail's little heart ached with her words. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. "You're being selfish, mommy. You're selfish and I don't like it...I don't like you!"

She gaped at him, her eyes overflowing with hurt. Gear released his fork and stared at his little brother in shock. Mail's chest was heaving as though the words had been punched out of him. The doorbell trilled and Gear stood up, mumbling about getting it. Ghislaine took a sip of her coffee. Mail jiggled his leg, a nervous habit he developed.

"Mail!" He perked up at the sound of his friend and hopped out of his chair. Just like that, he forgot about what he had said.

His friend was a four year old, like he was, named Lennox. Mail called him Len, finding the name tedious to say. He was chubby and always wore jeans and a T-shirt of some bizarre color, usually purple. His cheeks were ruddy as though he were constantly blushing, and his hair was a dark blond.

Mail rushed over to his friend and hugged him, grinning at him. Len's mother, a large woman, stood in the doorway. Ghislaine smiled shakily and went over, the two speaking softly with each other.

"Whatcha doin' here?" Mail asked.

"I asked Mom if you could come over and she said as long as it's okay with your mom." Len explained, looking over his shoulder at their mothers.

Ghislaine looked at Mail, a nuance of hurt still hidden in her eyes. "Would you like to go over Len's for a while, Mail?"

He knew she didn't want to see him for the day. He nodded eagerly. She nodded. "Then you may go over."

The two boys high-fived before scampering out of the kitchen. They ran outside, shouting playfully at each other as they headed next door where Len lived. Len's mother huffed from somewhere behind them. Len pushed Mail into his house and the two went to the playroom.

"So, what do you wanna play?"

Mail hummed as he thought, tapping his chin. "Can we play Mario Bros.?"

Len nodded and tugged out the two game controllers to his old PlayStation. The two sat on the plush carpeted floor and began to play.

"I got dibs on Mario!" Mail declared.

Len pouted. "No fair! You're always Mail!"

"That's cuz you're too slow!"

They stuck their tongues out at each other before lapsing into silence. Len's mother brought in cookies for them and they tossed their controllers to the side in place for the delicacy. Mail shoved two into his mouth, chewing loudly. He was still learning his manners.

"I'm getting bored with video games. Can we play a board game?" Len stood up, ready to go to the closet.

Mail nodded. He was starting to get bored, too. Len sat in front of him with "Chutes and Ladders." Len taught him the rules, which he caught on quickly.

"Mail?" Len's mother entered the room.

He looked up at her. "Yeah?"

"It's starting to get dark out. Will you be alright walking yourself over?"

He nodded. "Yeah, just next door!"

She smiled. "That's right. Len, see him to the door."

Len stood up and they walked to the front boys hugged each other and grinned.

"Wanna play again tomorrow? You can come over my house this time!" Mail suggested.

"Okay!" Len waved to him as he walked across the lawn.

Leaves shivered in the wind, some drifting down onto the lawns and sidewalk. Autumn was suffocating summer. But, at least it made nice sunsets, Mail thought to himself as he looked at the sky. It looked as though it had been painted with varying shades of orange and pink. Mail paused in front of the door and frowned slightly. The locked looked damaged, something he didn't notice before. With a shrug, he assumed it had always been like that and pushed open the door.

"I'm home!" He called.

He was greeted with silence, which was unusual. He shivered. It was drafty in his home, like the heat was turned off.

"Mommy? Gear?" Something didn't feel right.

Instinct told him to turn around, to scream for help, but curiosity made him walk down the hallway and into the kitchen. He found his mother.

She was slumped against the cupboards, her hair hiding her face. Her hands were slashed and blood coated her shirt and pants. Mail was confused.

"Mommy? Do you have a boo-boo somewhere?" He asked. Crept closer.

Pushed her hair out of her face. Her eyes had been gouged out.

A scream escaped from his lips and he quickly clasped his hands over his mouth. He became a quivering mass when he suddenly heard movement upstairs. Tears filled his eyes.

"G-G-Gear?" He whispered, too quietly for anyone to hear.

A familiar scream split the air and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Rapid footsteps thumped down the stairs. A shadow whisked itself out of the house, leaving the door open. Mail remained frozen for a few minutes until he swore he saw his mother's body move. Something told him to go upstairs. Maybe Gear was still alive, the voice cheered hopefully in his head. He took the stairs one at a time, leaning against the rail. His lifeline. There was a little bloody trail starting at the top of the stairs and into Gear's room. The door was ajar. Mail shakily pushed it open and rushed inside when he saw his brother move.  
Gear was sliced up in a similar fashion to Ghislaine, but his eyes were still in his skull. His breathing was labored and his eyes were bright with pain.

"M-Mail...?" His voice was breathy.

Mail sniffled and knelt beside his older brother. "I'm here, Gigi...W-what happened?"

"Looks like dad was in some trouble and didn't bother to set these guys right...Or something..." Gear coughed violently, spitting up blood.

Mail pressed his knuckles against his mouth, whimpering. "W-what do I do?"

"Get out of here. They're going to come back. They think they can find dad here."

"What about you?" Mail tugged on Gear's arm, ignoring the cringe that sent his brother shuddering.

"I-it's too late for me. Go, now!" His voice took a panicked edge and Mail heard why. Unfamiliar cars were stopping in front of their house.

A miasma of gasoline wafted into their nostrils and Gear snarled at him. "Mail!"

Frightened, Mail scrambled to his feet and ran to the door. He looked back at his brother and whimpered, "I love you, Gigi."

Gear's face softened and he replied hoarsely, "I love you, too."

He turned back around and rushed downstairs, ignoring the pain knowing that would be the last time he would ever see his brother alive again. The gasoline was pungent now, the whole downstairs saturated with it. Smoke was starting to fill the house and he instinctively got onto all fours, crawling blindly around. The roaring of the fire grew closer and he crawled faster. He was in the kitchen now, the backdoor just barely in sight. He didn't look at his mother's body as he passed it, squinting his eyes. He hit his head against the door and stood up, fumbling with the knob. He hoped whoever was doing this wasn't waiting for him on the other side of the door.

Mail threw it open and fell onto his stomach on the cold grass. He dry heaved, coughing violently, and turned to look back at his burning house. Tears filled his eyes once more and he got to his feet, gripping his hair in his little fists.

"Gear! Mommy!" He wailed, his tears leaving clean trails across his soot covered cheeks.

The sound of a fire engine hurt his ears and he felt panicked. What if the firemen were with the bad men who killed his mother and brother? The thought sent him reeling and he found himself stumbling through the backyards of his neighborhood, leaving behind the blazing house.

Night had fallen, the streets quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the three year old crying and breathing heavily. Smoke was still in his lungs, making it difficult and painful to breathe. He wanted to go to sleep. He looked around to see if there was any place he could curl up and sleep, if only for a little while. A looming Victorian building caught his eye.

It was surrounded by an iron wrought gate, the grounds green and spacious. The building itself was foreboding, but Mail was exhausted. He squeezed his body through the narrow gaps in between the iron rods. He shivered and walked to where a stone bench lay underneath an oak tree. He curled up as best he could, the wind chilling him. He let out a miserable sound. He was going to freeze to death. That thought should have scared him, but he felt oddly at peace. He never did see himself living that long anyway.

"Hey!"

Mail sat up abruptly, startled by the voice. A dark figure with glowing hair was rushing toward him. The figure was about his height and that was the only reason why he didn't take off running. He stood up, wringing the singed sleeves of his shirt. The figure stopped just a few feet away from him, far enough to make Mail comfortable.

"What are you doing here?" The voice was loud in the muffled night and sounded androgynous.

"I-I...I'm sorry!" Mail took a step back and the figure was suddenly right in front of him.

It was a boy his age, or perhaps a year older, with short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Said eyes were narrowed as they regarded Mail with suspicion. He was dressed in all black, but his feet were bare. They tensed while they were touching the cold grass.

"You don't look familiar...Hey, wait a minute! You're the missing kid on the news, aren't you?" The blond snapped his fingers and pointed at him.

Mail frowned in confusion. "T-the news?"

"Yeah! There was a fire a few miles from here and only the kid survived."

Mail didn't like this. He didn't like this stranger knowing what had happened. He glared and yelled defensively, "I am not! Shut up!"

The blond raised an eyebrow and gestured to Mail's singed clothes and filthy face. "Yeah, right."

Mail growled and threw a punch at the blond. The boy, surprisingly, caught his wrist and flipped him onto his stomach. He felt the boy sit on him, his legs on ether side of his waist. He struggled, but the blond shoved his face roughly into the ground.

"I don't like being swung at," the blond whispered in his ear, "so, I learned some moves. Pretty neat, huh? If I wanted to...I could break your arm. You're not too 'attached' to it, are you?"

The blond laughed at his own joke. Mail whimpered, feeling tears sting his eyes. He wasn't afraid or anything. He just wanted to sleep. To his own embarrassment, he sobbed. The boy still straddling him let out a surprised huff.

"Hey," now his voice was soft, almost soothing, "I won't break your arm, yeah? Just tell me the truth. You lost your family, didn't you?"

Mail sniffled and nodded, further dirtying his face.

"I'm going to get off you now. When I do, don't hit me or else I'll self defense you again. Got it?"

Nod.

He felt the added weight get off him and he stood up. He sniffled, wiping his running nose on his sleeve. The blond watched him, his icy eyes slightly warmer.

"I'm Mello. The building behind me is called 'Wammy's House.' It's an orphanage for smart kids. Are you smart?" The question was sharp.

Mail shrugged. "I-I can take apart a computer and put it back together again...Without any instructions."

"Mello" nodded his head in approval before grabbing Mail by his wrist. Mail stumbled after him, protesting, "H-hey! What are you-"

"We don't have any techie nerds here. I'm taking you to Roger. He's the head honcho when Watari isn't here."

He was led into the warm foyer of the building before Mello knocked impatiently on an oak door. A withered looked old man opened it, annoyance etched into his wrinkled face.

"Mello? Do you have any idea what time- Oh, who is this?" The man, who Mail assumed was Roger, noticed him, his bushy eyebrow raised with curiosity.

"I found him in the garden." Mello declared. "He was cold and shivering and he says he's good with technology. His family was killed tonight."

Mail suddenly felt like a stray dog and Mello was begging his guardian to let him keep him. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Roger listened to Mello before looking at Mail once more. Mail didn't like his beady eyes.

"Are you up to taking the entrance exam now, or would you like to rest?" He was asked.

He's rather feel like he belonged to this place than wait for morning, waking in an unfamiliar place where it wasn't certain he would be staying. "Now."

Half an hour later, he completed the exam and Roger quickly scanned over it. He nodded. "Welcome to Wammy's House. I'm sure Mello has already told you that the children here are above average intelligence, or have exceptional skills. There is also more to this orphanage: the children here are the successors to L."

Mail had heard of L before, but he hadn't paid much attention. Gear had been more interested in the supposed "world's greatest detective." Even now, he wasn't that impressed. But, if it meant having a place to stay in which no one would know where he was...

"The children here also have an alias."

He frowned. "But, I want to stay as Mail."

"You can't. From now on, you are going to be known as 'Matt.'" Roger disregarded his scowl, his protest.

Mello, who had been standing in a corner nearby, walked back over to Matt. "Since your new name starts with the same letter as mine, we're going to be roommates."

Roger dismissed them, "Matt's" complaints falling on deaf ears. The two boys walked quietly together up to the second floor. Matt was glaring at the wooden floorboards. He hated his new name. He wanted to stay Mail. When he said he didn't want to be remembered, he didn't think his name would be taken from him. The only thing of his mother and brother he had left.

"Hey." Matt looked up at Mello.

"You shouldn't sulk. At least someone found you right away." There was a faraway tone in Mello's voice and Matt stared at him in confusion.

Feeling the other's gaze, Mello glared at him. "Don't look at me like that. Come on."

He was pushed into a room labeled "M" and Mello poked him roughly in the chest.

"Don't touch my stuff and do not eat my chocolate if you want to live to see six. Got it?"

"You like saying 'got it' when you feel like being scary, don't you? Matt inquired, blatantly ignoring the threat.

Mello blinked and his lips twitched in an effort to keep from smirking. "Yeah, maybe I do, so what?"

Matt shrugged. "Nothing. It's just...you're already scary enough without the 'got it' thrown on the end of your sentence. Hey, where am I going to sleep?"

Mello decided to let go their previous conversation and jabbed a thumb in the direction of his bed.

"They'll probably set up a bed for you tomorrow during lessons. For now, we're gonna have to share the bed."

The blond seemed just as enthused with the idea as Matt felt as the two crawled into bed. The sheets smelled strongly of chocolate and Matt pulled an empty wrapped out from behind his head. Mello rolled so his back was facing Matt and Matt did the same.

He had a hard time falling asleep that night, surrounded by familiar smells and sounds. In this silence, what had happened earlier crashed over him. He curled up into a tiny ball and cried. He hated himself. He wished he could apologize to his mother for saying those things to her. He could hardly believe that just that morning, his family was alive and well. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Yes, Matt had a very difficult time sleeping his first night at Wammy's house.


	3. New Friend

**LifeTheNinetails- Thank you**

**Guest- Yeah, that makes sense. Glad you still think it's amazing, thought =)**

**I've decided I'm going to have Matt's and Mello's stories converge and diverge at certain intervals. For instance, they remember different things. I picture Matt not remembering much of his childhood in Wammy's except when Mello is really involved. **

**Also, an OC will be present in this story. Just a warning. I do not own Death Note!**

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When he woke up the next morning, he was scared out of his wits. Here he was, in an unfamiliar room with an equally unfamiliar boy in the same bed as him. He was snuggled up against Mello, if only for warmth, and pushed the boy so violently away from himself, he fell out of the bed. Matt hit his head and cried, his legs tangled up in the sheets as he tried to scramble away from Mello. Mello grumbled under his breath and glared at him half heartedly before his glance softened altogether. He walked slowly closer, as though approaching a scared dog, and knelt in front of Matt.

"You don't remember yet, do you?" He asked rhetorically, his voice soft. He reached out a hand and lightly touched Matt's aching head.

Matt whimpered and cried more as he remembered yesterday. The fire, his mother's body, Gear urging him to leave in that burning house. Mello. Now, it was coming back to him. Mello saved him. His tears slowed, but the blond continued to stroke his hair, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Feel better?" He asked.

Matt nodded and rubbed his eyes. The hand left his head and Mello stood up. He had a stern expression on his face.

"Good. Now, enough blubbering. Go get dressed; it's time for breakfast. After, lessons start...Crap. You don't have any other clothes." Mello cursed in a foreign language before he went to his dresser.

"For now, I guess you're gonna have to wear my clothes...Here." A striped shirt and jeans were tossed at him.

He stood there, holding the clothes, and looked up at Mello. Mello was dancing around naked wit ha pair of pants in his hands, much to his shock.

"W-whare you doing?!" Matt sputtered, lifting his hand up to shield his eyes.

"Getting dressed, idiot. I'm hungry!" Mello snapped irately. Matt heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up. He moved his hand from his eyes and nearly sighed in relief when his new roommate was completely dressed.

Mello stared at him. "Well?"

Matt was confused, then realized what the other was getting at. He looked embarrassed. "I-I can't get dressed with you _watching_ me."

At first, Mello looked astounded, before he stomped over to Matt, growling, "Oh, _would you_-God, I'll dress you myself if you don't move it!"

Matt yelped and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. "Okay, okay!"

He came out a minute later, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. It felt weird, wearing stranger's clothes, and the clothes didn't fit right. The shirt was too large and the jeans too small. Mello was tapping his foot and grabbed his wrist, yanking him out of their room.

"Second and third floors are dorms. Second floor is the boys, third floor is the girls. First floor has the playroom, dining hall, and classrooms." Mello called over his shoulder, speaking a mile a minute.

Matt stumbled after him, losing count of how many turns they had taken, how many flights of stairs. The place felt like a maze to him, but Mello seemed to navigate them just fine.

"Hey, Mello? How long have you been here?" He asked.

"Since I was four." Matt gave him a blank look. "Two years."

_No wonder he knows this place so well._ The smell of breakfast was growing stronger and Mello released his wrist to open a door directly adjacent to the foyer. Children were seated at various round tables, the room abuzz with chatter and the sound of silverware clinking against plates. Breakfast, and all other meals, was served buffet style, but the children were only allowed one helping. They could choose whatever they like as long as they had a fruit or vegetable to go along with it. Mello grabbed a plate for him and handed it to him. He followed behind the blond uncertainly, getting everything Mello got. Chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, milk, and apple slices.

"C'mon." Mello went over to an empty table near the corner of the hall.

A couple heads looked up when he passed, their curiosity tangible on their round faces. Most of the children he saw looked to be no older than eight, but he noticed a handful of girls who looked to be in their teens.

"So, how old are you?" Mello mumbled almost unintelligibly, his cheeks bulging from pancakes. Matt bit his lip to keep from laughing. Mello looked a bit like a chipmunk.

"I turned five back in February."

Mello swallowed his pancakes and grinned. "I'm a few months older than you; I turned five back in December."

Matt nodded and bit off a piece of bacon. It was cooked the way he liked it and he thought back to his mother. He could feel a lump forming and swallowed. He rubbed his eyes, feeling them beginning to moisten. He'd really would prefer not bursting into tears again, especially in front of all these kids.

"Don't start crying. You do that and the kids here are gonna jump on you." Mello suddenly said.

Matt looked over at him. Mello wasn't even looking at him. "I wasn't about to-"

"Don't lie to me either. I hate liars. It's your eyes. They're like windows."

Matt self consciously touched the corners of his eyes. He shot back, "Maybe you're just a...a...peeping tom!"

Mello sent him a withered look. "Shut up and finish your breakfast. We're gonna work on your comebacks later."

Matt pouted, but did as he was told, sullenly finishing his breakfast. A bell sounded from overhead. He watched as the remaining orphans in the dining hall brought their dirty silverware and plates over to a large bin before filing out, presumably to class.

"Come on; we have Art." Mello grumbled. Matt took it he didn't like art.

He followed Mello to a room that smelled heavily like glue and paint. The teacher was a young woman wearing paint covered overalls, her brown hair being held up in a messy bun with a dripping paintbrush. He shot Mello a bemused look. Mello nodded sagely.

"Yeah, she always looks like that." He answered Matt's unspoken question.

"Good morning, children! I hope you all enjoyed your breakfast." She smiled dreamily, her voice soft and melodic. She reminded Matt of a flower child.

"Today, we will be exploring our creativity through finger paint! You may make anything you like! You may even use your feet!" She giggled at the last part.

Matt and Mello exchanged a look, both biting their lips to keep from snickering. The two silently agreed to share finger paint.

"I'm gonna paint you." Mello declared.

Matt blinked in surprise before grinning. "And I'll paint you!"

"Mine's gonna be betterer!" Mello challenged.

Matt frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Challenge accepted."

The two stuck their tongues out at each other and set to work, glaring at the other through their peripheral vision. As he worked, Matt glanced around the room. A girl with brown hair pulled up in pigtails was working diligently. He shifted in his stool to see her work and was shocked to see how beautiful the painting was. It was Wammy's House, with several children playing soccer out front. One looked eerily similar to Mello.

Another seated next to Mello was a boy no older than four. He was staring at the paint in disdain. Matt could see why. He was dressed in all white.

"Near, you shouldn't stunt your creative growth." The teacher chided, standing beside him.

Near lifted his hand to touch his shockingly white hair. "I have no creativity."

Matt rose an eyebrow at how dead the kid sounded. He heard Mello scoff. "He's a robot, miss. He'll malfunction if he touches paint."

"I disagree, Mello. Unlike you, I have better control over my emotions." Near said in that dull voice, his gray eyes flashing over to Mello.

Matt watched as Mello grabbed a fistful of blue paint and threw it at Near. The paint hit its mark, striking Near in his pale face. His white hair had streaks of blue in it and the paint dripped down his chin, hitting his shirt and the lap of his pants. The room grew silent as the children debated whether to laugh. Mello had a look of satisfaction on his smug face. The look was quickly wiped away when the teacher pinched his ear.

"Ow!" Mello didn't dare move a muscle.

"Mello, apologize to Near right this moment!" Suddenly, the teacher's airy voice was heavy with anger.

Mello glowered at the formerly clean boy. "Sorry, Near."

Anyone with ears could tell the apology wasn't genuine, but the teacher was satisfied and released his ear. Near nodded his head and stood up.

"May I please return to my room to clean up?" He asked in that same toneless voice.

"Yes, you may. I'm so sorry that happened, Near."

He merely nodded again and shuffled out of the room. Matt turned to look at Mello.

"What was that?" He asked neutrally.

"I hate him! He thinks he's better than me!" Mello hissed once the teacher had moved away from him to check the others' progress.

Then Mello narrowed his eyes at Matt. Matt leaned back in unease. "Why? Are you taking _his_ side?"

"N-no! I don't really like him, either. He's too...weird?" He wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say.

However, Mello grunted his approval, the challenging glint returning to his eyes. "Hey, did you finish your painting?"

Matt looked at his half finished project and nodded. He had only done Mello's head. The two turned their canvases so that the other could see it. Mello laughed. Matt wasn't amused.

"Why are my eyes orange?" He asked.

"They're goggles. So then I can look at you and not be called a 'peeping tom.' I'll get you them for Christmas." Mello promised.

Matt couldn't help but smile slightly. "And I'll get you all the chocolate I can afford!"

The bell rang and the two ran over to the sinks, washed their hands, and headed to their next class. Matt hated the classes, but with Mello always throwing something at Near, or just making fun of the teacher behind his or her back, he found the lessons a little more tolerable.


	4. The New C

**Imaginefun- Yeah, I was going to keep that little detail, but realized I couldn't fit it in with my new plot ^^" And yeah, I'm going for Matt and Mello as best friends.**

**Lizi Rinz- XD I get that "superhuman" thing a lot. And to think, while I'm writing four stories simultaneously, I'm juggling school work! Believe it or not, I'm astoundingly lazy, too, haha. Anyway, glad you like the story!**

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Matt had a selective memory. Anything that happened he'd rather forget, he blocked from his mind, and denied having ever experienced said memory. Helping Mello read forbidden files in Roger? No, you've got the wrong kid. Sneaking off the grounds at midnight? He was in bed, sleeping snugly. Ask Nettle: he might know. Spamming Roger's computer with advertisements? No-sir-wrong-genius.  
That was why he couldn't remember his first year at Wammy's. Mello was constantly dragging him into his schemes, constatnly getting the two grounded or punished or glued together (he'd rather not recount that incident). He remembered that on 25 June, Mello gave him his goggles. They were orange lensed and a little too big for his face, but he loved them nonetheless just because Mello had given them to him. When Matt asked why Mello was giving them to him now, Mello simply shrugged and answered, "Christmas is too far away!"

Yet, that first year at Wammy's flew by and with it, rumors of a new child began to spread. He had is nose buried in a game console Mello stole from another kid for him when he first heard the rumor. He had misheard, though, and looked up with interest at the peculiar description of the new kid. Big nose, warts, and a scar? Freakishly large? When he looked back at the description of the new C and her actual appearance, he wondered if he had selective hearing as well. He could only hope the new kid was ugly. What if Mello grew bored with him and started hanging out with the new kid? It made him hate the new C.

While he left the library, finding it too abuzz to really focus on his fame, he didn't bother looking up until something smacked into him. His finger slipped and "Loser!" sang mockingly from the speaker of his game. He stumbled back a step and glowered at the light orange fluffball currently rubbing his head.

"You made me lose." He grumbled, pocketing his game to help the fluffball back on his feet.

The bright colors of the fluffball hurt his eyes and he was grateful he had a shield. He figured the kid was wearing all white, including having white curly hair. He recognized him as Near, Mello's nemesis, or whatever. Matt found if better to tune the blond out and offer an occasional oh-yeah-he's-a-jerk-I-hate-him-too. Personally, he didn't have a problem with Near, though he did find him a little weird.

Near took his hand and quickly released it. Matt didn't even bother reacting to it. A lot of the orphans didn't like physical contact. "I apologize. Do you know where Mello is it?"

Okay, so Matt could understand why Mello didn't like Near. His voice was just so...furstratingly monotonous! How could any person, let alone a four year old, speak with no sort of fluctuation?

"I think he's in our room studying. Why?" Matt adjusted his goggles, only having just noticed they were a little crooked.

Near stood there for a solid minute, staring at him with those dead, fish eyes. Matt met is gaze evenly, repressing a shudder. How did he do that? He had a good poker face, Matt would give him that. He could use that against Mello. The blond was way too good at reading him, even with goggles shielding his "window eyes." He blinked, noting Near hadn't done so once so far. When he didn't think the younger boy would answer, Near finally opened his mouth.

"There is a new child coming soon. Apparently, she has L's blessing and he had her forgo the entrance exam. She is to be the new C. Oh, and B killed her parents. I figured Mello would be interested in hearing this. He might have another person 'stealing' his rank from him."

That was another thing. Why was Near able to speak so fluently? He was only four! Matt was five and he still had a lisp, for god's sake! And, he sometimes flubbed up his words, which Mello loved making fun of him for. It wasn't his fault he said "fuds" instead of "fuzz." And who the heck was "B?" By the way Near said it, he and Mello seemed to know who he or she was. He figured B was from before him.  
Matt's lips twitched with amusement when he realized Near was making a jab at Mello's insecurity. "I'll replay the message for him."

He started to walk past Near, then paused. "But, ah, I'm gonna leave out that last part. Don't want him rearranging my face, ya know?"

Near casted him a withered look as though just speaking to the redhead was a chore. "Logically impossible."

He watched Near sulk down the hall until he got to the end and disappeared into his room. Matt shrugged, figuring Near didn't understand exaggeration, and walked down the hall, too, stopping in front of his door. He heard mumbling. Never a good sign. With a sigh, he opened the door, kicking wadded up balls of paper out of his way as he did so.

"Hey, Mello." He greeted, looking at the desk where Mello was hunched over.

At first, there was no response, the only sound coming from the blond was the rapid scratching of a pencil across paper. Then, "Hi."

Pleased, Matt flopped onto his unmade bed and pulled out his game again. If he wanted to beat the boss by dinner, he would have to make some serious progress.

"So, I found out something interesting." He started conversationally.

"Hmm?" Mello was uninterested, as Matt expected.

"Yeah, apparently, we'll be getting a new kid. She skipped the entrance exam and she's supposed to be the new C. And I think Nea-er, Nettle said her parents had been killed by someone named 'B.'"

Mello froze and turned around, his expression incredulous. "What? B? Are you sure?"

"I dunno, that's what I heard. Why, do you know what that is?"

"No." Mello snapped sharply, abruptly ending that topic.

"Okay, okay, no need to bite my head off. Anyway, I dunno when she's supposed to come, but I would think within the next month or so. Nea-Nettle implied she was in a bad way."

Mello lost interest again, having turned back around to resume his work. "Hmph. If she didn't have to take the entrance exam, I guess it was too easy for her. That isn't good. She might take my rank from me."

Matt snorted. Near had been right with Mello's train of thought wandering to that "worrying" thing. It was better to just not respond.

* * *

He didn't realize the new C was there until Mello was suddenly dragging him over to a table. He knew the table wasn't familiar judging from the number of steps he had to take from the buffet line to the table. Mello was holding both their trays and he sank into a chair while the latter slapped the trays onto the ground.

"Jeez, Mello, was that necessary?" He recognized the adolescent voice as Linda's. She was one of the oldest kids at the orphanage. She was about ten years older than him.

Mello ignored her. "Hey, you're the new girl, right? Cade?"

What kind of lame name was "Cade?" Matt couldn't help but wonder. He still didn't look up from his game. Currently, he was playing Super Mario, Bros. His favorite next to Spyro. The new girl must have nodded because Mello added, "I'm Mello and he's Matt."

He lazily lifted a hand up in greeting._ Damn turtles...Mario can hit his head on a brick, but if a turtle hits him, he dies? Or, and this I love, he can eat a mushroom, but if the mushroom is crawling around on the ground, he dies, too?_

"...Mello is six and Matt's five. Maybe you can be friends with Matt!" Linda chattered.

No. He didn't want anything to do with the new kid, let alone be her buddy.

"What about Mello?" This new voice, soft and feminine, must have been Cade's. It wasn't obnoxious like Linda's. He still hated it, though.

"Mello's a bully." Matt frowned, but withheld from saying anything.

"Shut up, Linda! The only reason why you're here is because you're good at art. You aren't even smart!"

"Mello, you jerk!" A chair screeched against the floorboards and Linda ran out of the dining room.

Cade mumbled, "That wasn't very nice..." She seemed hesitant to say anything at all.

"Yeah, Mello, it really wasn't." Matt truly felt that way, too. He didn't mind Linda, she certainly didn't deserve to be called stupid. She was just average.

He looked up for just an instant, finally looking at the new girl. She was cute, sort of, with large gray eyes and black hair pulled up in two low pigtails. She was wearing a black sweater, making her look washed out. She was tiny, and at first he thought she couldn't have been older than two. He realized, though, she was probably closer to his or Near's age (four or five). She had three scars on her face, the scars pink. They were recent. She met his gaze before quickly looking away. She hopped down from her chair and toddled out of the dining hall, leaving the two boys.

"I don't see what the big deal was. She doesn't seem special." Matt muttered to himself.

Mello quietly ate his dinner, sulking. Matt looked at him incredulously.

"Dude, no way you're pouting because a little girl just told you off."

"I'm not!" Mello's cheeks turned pink and he grabbed his tray, throwing it out, before stomping off.

Matt blinked behind his goggles and groaned. "She's gonna bring trouble, I'm telling you."

Suddenly, Cade was always with them. She ate with them, sat in class with them, played with them. Anywhere they went, she was there. Not by her own volition, though. Mello was dragging her around with them. To Matt, she didn't seem thrilled to be hanging with them. Matt felt the same way. All Mello talked about besides his rank was her. "Where's Cade?" "Cade said this...Cade did that...Cade, Cade, Cade!" It was enough to drive Matt mad.

Several months after her arrival, their math teacher was assigning partners. Matt looked at Mello who looked at Cade who looked back at Mello.

"Linda, you're with Matt." Of bloody course.

He grudgingly moved to sit beside Linda. She was doodling on her homework, making butterflies and other girly things that Matt didn't care to disclose. He looked across the room and was relieved to see Mello working with some blonde girl named Dietrich and Cade was with Near, the two quietly talking to each other. Those two should have been friends. They were a lot alike.

"Hey, you're already done?" Linda sounded disbelieving.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was bored and the teacher wouldn't shut up, so-" She grabbed his paper and furiously scribbled down his answers.

Matt sighed and leaned back in his seat. He committed the rest of his time to watching the clock. The bell rang and the kids filed out. Mello waited for Matt only to speed off ahead of him, grumbling about Cade being partnered up with the "bigheaded twit." Matt was ready to pull his hair out. He turned around and walked down the hallway. He wanted to go to the library. He had a corner in there all to himself that he liked to play his games in. Or, when he had the patience, read. A door opened and out walked Cade. He kept his face indifferent, but internally he was ready to throttle her just for being there.

They were shoulder to shoulder when he opened his mouth. "Mello's mad."

They stopped walking and she turned to look at him. "What? Why?"

"Something about you being partnered up with Near. Dunno why he cares though. I figured it's either because it's Near or because it's you."

He looked at her and frowned. "I don't get why he likes you so much. You aren't special."

"Why are you asking me? I don't know." She had a mildly hurt look on her face before continuing to walk.

He almost felt guilty for hurting her feelings. Almost.


	5. Pookie

**Lizi Rinz- Thanks for being honest. To be honest, I wasn't too fond of that chapter myself. I'm always on the computer so my dad gave up a while ago, haha**

**Imaginefun- Believe it or not, I can't stand Cade. Which is why I've decided to make her only a minor character and I'm getting rid of her stories/pairing altogether. I never was too happy with her.**

**Anywho, I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

He wished he could remember some of the good times he had with Mello, but he couldn't. Okay, that was a lie. He could think of one, but that shouldn't count as a good memory. It was more of a traumatic experience that only Mello found funny. Matt and Near just thought it was awful.

It was one of the rare times Miss Tag-a-long wasn't with them. Instead, Mello blackmailed Near into sneaking out with him and Matt to go see a movie. Matt wasn't sure why Mello wanted Near to go, but he didn't have any issues. Just as long as Cade wasn't with them.

They had seen a scary movie filled with lots of blood and gore. Mello's ideal movie. Matt? Not so much. Near? He just sat there, blinking once in a while, and quietly request for the popcorn Matt had long since abandoned. While they were walking home, the streets bare and silent, Matt felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

"Hey, uh, Mello? Do you feel like we're being watched?" He whispered.

"No. Why; are you scared?" Mello smirked teasingly.

Matt felt his face flush with embarrassment. "N-no! Near wanted me to ask you."

"While I am not scared, I do too feel we are being followed." Near's monotonic voice piped up.

"Why are you two whispering?" Mello asked exasperatedly, his voice loud in the dark.

Matt turned around to look at Near. The boy had an almost ethereal glow to him from his pallor clothes, hair, and skin. Near looked back at him.

"It seems Mello's instincts are retarded." Near said flatly.

Matt wasn't sure whether to laugh, but he turned back around to see Mello's reaction. Only Mello wasn't there anymore. He stopped walking immediately, feeling Near run into him with a little "oof."

"Matt, what is the meaning of-"

"Shh. Mello's disappeared." Matt was looking wildly around, his heart beating sporadically.

He felt Near grab onto the back of his shirt and the two stood under the streetlight. He could hear shuffling and called out quietly, "M-Mels? Is that you?"

"Mello, if this is your idea of a joke, then I must say I find your sense of humor quite sadistic." Near added.

A large man stepped into the light and Matt took a step back. The man was bloodstained, but the blood did not seem to be his own, and he was dressed in shabby clothing. His eyes were wild and in his hand was a butcher knife.

"God told Moses to kill a lamb and to spread its blood across his doorway so that Death would not take the first born son of the slaves." The man mumbled crazily, eyes flicking here and there.

Matt didn't dare turn around to look at Near to see what he thought of this guy. Personally, Matt thought he needed to take a bath and lay off the vodka.

"God is gracious indeed. He has presented two little lambs that have wandered too far from their shepherd. I am the wolf, you know. I will spread your blood across my doorway just like Moses did." The man took a drunken step toward them.

_Oh god. He killed Mello and now he's going to kill me and Near. Is this really how I'm going to die? At the hands of a nutjob?_ The man was close enough now Matt could smell him. He smelled like rot. Then, a black figure knocked the man away.

Mello was standing in front of them, panting and looking a little worse for wear.

"Mello? You're alive!" Matt cheered.

Mello paid him no mind, glaring at the man, who was staring at him just as poisonously.

"You. Fucking. Got. My. Clothes. Dirty!" Mello charged, headbutting the man in the gut.

The man went down and Mello kicked his knife out of his hand and resumed pummeling the man.

"No one fucks with me! You got me? You mess with me and I mess your face up!" Mello was screeching, each word enunciated with a punch.

Matt watched incredulously as Mello, only eleven, was beating a middle aged man twice his size within an inch of his life. When the man stopped moving, Mello got off him, breathing heavily. He looked over to where Matt and Near were cowering.

"Hey. You guys alright?" He wiped his hands off on his grimy clothes.

"Y-yeah. What happened to you?" Matt asked.

"This idiot comes and drags me off into a bush. Muttering something about Moses and lambs, or some bullshit like that." Mello spat at the man's unconscious form.

"Let's just go home. I'm not scared or anything, but I'd really like to go to bed." Near mumbled, releasing his hold on Matt's shirt.

The three continued walking back to the orphanage where a livid Roger was waiting for them. Near got off easy, much to Mello's chagrin, but he and Matt got the punishment of a lifetime. Feeding Roger's insects.

He had a tarantula with beady eyes that followed you around the room like it was expecting you to be its next meal. The next was an impossibly enormous centipede that liked to snap at slow fingers. Matt wasn't sure if centipedes were poisonous or not, and he'd rather not find out.

The next day, the two boys stood side by side, staring at all the toxic insects and arachnids ready to spread their venom through their small bodies.

"Okay. You take the killer insects on the left," Matt indicated the left, "I take the killer insects on the right."

"Why do I have to do the left? 'Left' means 'sinister' in Latin, you know." Mello protested.

"So?" Matt raised an auburn eyebrow at him.

"You're a lefty. You do the sinister side and I do the saintly side." Mello shoved him to the left.

Matt grumbled and stuck his tongue out at the blond's back before looking at the insects he was to feed. He was clutching a bucket filled with crickets, the room filled with their chirping. Poor little guys didn't know what was coming, Matt thought sympathetically. He cautiously peered into the terrarium of one insect. He recognized it as an Assassin's Beetle. With a shudder, he grabbed a handful of crickets, resisting the urge to squeal like a girl, and chucked the crickets in. Some held onto his hand for dear life and he mercilessly brushed them off before quickly shutting the hatch. He didn't stay to look as the crickets met their demise. Instead, he looked over at Mello, who looked like he was having more fun than he was.

"Matty, we should take the tarantula and put it in Near's room." Mello was grinning widely at the idea.

"You already got us in enough trouble, Mello. Besides, I think Roger would realize...'Pookie' would be missing from its cage." Matt said the name with distaste. Who would name a tarantula such a cutesy name?

Mello scowled. "You're no fun, you know that?"

He shoved some crickets into the terrarium without another word. He didn't notice Mello pocket the gargantuan spider.

That night, Matt woke up to the sensation of something crawling across his stomach. Still half asleep, he threw his covers off him and looked at his bare torso. Pookie was staring back at him. He blinked slowly before opening his mouth and unearthed a scream. He shot out of bed, knocking the tarantula off of his stomach and furiously pat himself down, shuddering. He heard Mello snort and glared at his friend's shaking form.

"Oh my god, Matt, you scream like a girl! Oh, that was priceless! I wish I had a camera or something!" Mello guffawed.

Suddenly forgetting his fear of all things eight legged, Matt scooped up the tarantula and chucked it at Mello, watching it land directly on his face. Mello stopped laughing, momentarily going cross eyed to look at the arachnid on his face before windmilling his arms. The poor tarantula was knocked across the room once more and didn't move.

"Matt, you ass! It's only funny when _I_ do it!" Mello snarled, punching Matt painfully in the arm.  
Matt paid him no mind and went over to the tarantula, clutching a pen. He cautiously poked it. It didn't move.

"Oh no. Mello, you killed it! Oh, god, Roger's going to have kittens!" Matt fretted, dropping the pen to grip his hair.

"Me? You're the idiot who threw it in my face!" Mello accused, but Matt could hear the panic in his voice as well.

"You're the one who took it out of its cage! What are we going to do?! Roger's going to know it was us! Expulsion! He's going to kick us out-No, worse! He's going to cut our butts off, mount them on the wall in his office, _then_ expel us!" Matt wailed.

Mello picked up the tarantula. "Shut up, Matt!" he hissed, "Roger isn't going to cut our butts off, he's not going to expel us. Look, all we have to do is put the tarantula back in its cage. Roger checks on it tomorrow morning and he'll think it died sometime last night. He can't possibly blame us, especially when he gave us the crickets. It's not like he can believe we poisoned the damn thing. Now c'mon."

Matt whimpered, but followed Mello out of their room and down the hall. It seemed every creak from the old floorboards was amplified and the two boys cringed and froze each time. It took them nearly half an hour to get to where Roger kept his beloved insects. Matt opened the door as quietly as he could.

"Hurry up, Matt, I'm getting sick of holding it!" Mello whispered irately.

Matt opened the door quicker and the two slipped into the room. Mello went over to the tarantula's cage and dropped its body in, shutting the hatch.

"Let's go." Matt shook his head.

"Shouldn't we say a few words?"

Mello looked at him in amazement. "This coming from you, the one who lights the wall on fire when there's a spider on it?"

"The thing had a name, Mello!" Matt exclaimed quietly.

Mello grumbled then waved his hand impatiently at Matt. Matt scratched his head. "Well, uh, rest in peace, Pookie. May your bowl always be filled with crickets."

"Yada yada yada. Let's go." Mello grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out of the room.

The two stayed up for the rest of the night and Matt whispered, "Hey, Mels?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you feel like something's crawling on you?"

"...Now that you mention it, yeah. Why?" Mello sounded apprehensive.

"What if it's Pookie taking her revenge on us? We're going to be haunted by a spider for the rest of our lives!" A pillow smacked him in the face.

"You're so stupid, Matt. Tarantulas don't haunt people. Wait, shh. I think I hear Roger moving around downstairs."

The two waited with bated breath as they heard a door open and close downstairs. It was one of the perks of their room: they were directly above Roger's insect room.

"Pookie!" They heard the mournful exclamation.

Matt and Mello exchanged a look and broke out in laughter. Mello smirked. "He can't blame me for that. I didn't do it."

"The one time you don't do it and he's instantly going to think it was you." Matt giggled, kicking his feet excitedly.

Stomping, fast paced footsteps were coming nearer and the two sat up in bed. Roger slammed open their door, his face beet red with rage. The two boys shrank in their beds, grins wiped off their faces. Matt couldn't remember ever seeing the man so furious.

The two pointed at one another and accused the other.

"He did it!"


	6. Abandonment

**LifeTheNineTails- Ugh, I hate spiders T.T, I was laughing while I was writing this XD**

**Imaginefun- Yeah, I'm going to start over. I'm not going to delete Uprooting the Past, but I'm obviously going to make changes once I sort things out.**

**Wow, I haven't updated this in a long time ^^" Sorry about that, I was too lazy. Anywho, I plan on finishing this and ****_Foundation_**** on January 26 (for obvious reasons). I still have a long way to go, too, so I'm going to write my ass off!...Even though I have midterms T.T Anyway, on to the story!**

**I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

Matt was lounging on his bed, playing his DS when Mello came storming in. The blond was bright red in the face with anger, or perhaps from running. His thin chest was heaving and rushed to his closet, pulling out a duffel bag. Matt watched him confusedly, pausing his DS and tossing it on the bed.

"Mels, what are you doing? What happened?"

"L is dead. That fucking...white _rat_ is his successor." Mello spat, shoving an armful of clothes into his duffel bag.

Matt gaped, his head tilted to the side. He was starting to put two and two together, but he was hoping his deduction was wrong. "L chose him?"

"No, he didn't get a chance to. I gave up my succession rights."

"You what?! Mello, being L is everything to you!" Matt exclaimed, standing up.

Mello let out a mirthless laugh and looked at his friend, eyes wide with delirium. "Correction, my friend, was. I don't care anymore. All I know is I can't stay here."

Matt ran over and tried to grab Mello's wrists. He couldn't bear the sight of his friend packing his things up. Mello pushed him violently away. He nearly fell, catching himself against the desk.  
"What? Don't you think you should think about this more, like, say, where you plan to go?" He hoped he could reason with him, a usually impossible feat.

Mello didn't miss a beat. "Los Angeles." He yanked on his sneakers, grimacing slightly. Matt figured they were too small for him, but now that the sneakers were on, the blond would be too stubborn to take them off.

"Wha-America?!" Mello zipped his duffel bag up. Matt grabbed it. "Where are you going to get the money for that?"

Mello pulled his duffel bag roughly back, making Matt stagger. "My inheritance."

Matt let out a strangled protest when Mello reached for the door knob. He opened the door and there stood a bewildered Cade. She looked at his duffel bag. "You were serious?"

It seemed to piss Mello off further. He shoved her out of his way. "Of course I was bloody serious! Move!"

He disappeared down the hall with Cade following behind him, trying to talk sense into him. Matt stood there, confounded, his mind attempting to piece together what had just transpired. Mello would come back. He had to.

After a few minutes, Matt left the room and rushed to the foyer. Cade was just coming back in, soaked. He didn't even know it was raining. He mistook the thunder for Mello's voice.

"Where's Mello?" He couldn't help but ask, even though her expression said it all.

"He left."

* * *

When Mello left, Matt was in denial. Even when he saw the empty bed, saw Mello's few possessions still lying around. Even when the teachers crossed his name off their attendance lists. Cade was the same way and he found himself forming a tentative bond with her. They bonded through their grief and confusion and anger. How could Mello just abandon them?

Matt found himself uncaring about his work, more so than before. The only reason why he did his work before was because Mello got annoyed with him whenever he didn't do his homework, or purposely failed a quiz. Now, without the blond smacking him when he failed, he chose to sleep during class. His teachers gave up on trying to wake him.

He dragged himself to his room and paused. He couldn't bear the idea sitting in that lonely room until dinner. He turned back around and found himself on the third floor, knocking on Cade's door. Light footsteps approached the door on the other side before it opened. She looked tired, the bruises beneath her eyes more prominent than ever. Her hair was messy and she blinked drowsily up at him before moving to the side without a word. Matt slipped past her just as silently and made himself comfortable on her bed.

"Did I wake you?"

"No." She lied. He could tell by her disheveled appearance she had been sleeping.

She sat at her desk, turning the chair around to face him. "Was there something you wanted?"

He shrugged. He wanted someone, anyone, to fill the emptiness he felt. He offered, "Wanna go to the sweet shop down the street? We still have a few hours before curfew."

As the older children, or rather Matt being one of the older children at fourteen, they were allowed to leave the orphanage without adult supervision so long as they had another person with them and they were back by seven (four thirty in winter). Cade didn't seem too thrilled with the idea of going out, but her sweet tooth must have caved her since she agreed.

"Yeah, alright. I just need to get my coat." She stood and walked to her closet, grabbing her hand-me-down winter coat. It was a little too big for her slight frame. She slid her boots onto her feet and the two exited her room.

"Won't you need a jacket?" Cade asked, noticing he was only in a long sleeved shirt.

Matt shook his head. "No. I'll be fine in this."

As soon as they left the warmth of the orphanage, he instantly regretted his decision. The cold air stabbed through his thin shirt, bleeding into his body. He shivered and she rolled her eyes good naturedly at him.

"You'll be fine." She teased, pushing open the gate.

He smiled slightly and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. A couple stragglers unbothered by the cold were walking, nodding their heads politely at him and Cade. He held open the door for her when the came to the sweet shop.

"Don't go overboard like you did last time. Between you and Mello, I had to-" He cut himself off, noticing the pain in her eyes and the unpleasant sensation of his gut twisting.

"I won't." Her voice was strained and she turned away from him, walking to the other side of the shop to look at the taffy.

Matt wandered to look at the fudge. He wasn't fond of chocolate, but he was still contemplating buying it. He turned away from it and instead went for the gummy bears, his choice of poison. Mello had always complained about the smell of the gummy bears making him feel ill. It irked Matt; he couldn't stand the smell of chocolate, but he didn't dare complain about it. Mello would kick his ass just for even commenting the amount of chocolate the blond consumed.

He grabbed a bag of Haribo and looked uninterestedly at the licorice. What was Mello doing now? It had only been a few days. Matt hoped Mello was at least safe. He wished he could remember the city Mello said he was going to. Something with an "L." L. Damn that L, Matt thought bitterly, it's his fault I lost my best friend. The surge of animosity toward his "mentor" surprised him. He couldn't recall ever wishing someone ill will the way he was with L; it simply wasn't in his nature. He reminded himself L was dead and that it was Kira's fault by default now. It was Mello's fault for over reacting and refusing his help.

"Matt? I'm all set and it's nearly four thirty." Cade's voice startled him.

He took her candy from her and went to the cashier, quietly paying for their sweets. He handed her her bag and left the shop with her.

"Are you okay?" She asked, looking up at him with mild concern.

"I'm fine. Just have a lot on my mind." He replied, not sparing her a glance.

Thankfully, she took what he said as a sign he didn't want to talk, so their time walking back to the orphanage was silent.

They went their separate ways on the second floor. Cade wished him a good night, even though the sun was just beginning to set. Matt nodded and returned to his room. He shoved his candy into his dresser and pulled out a cigarette.

One of the older kids Matt had been friendly with, Derek, had given the cigarette to him as a gift for his birthday back in February. Matt didn't know what to do with it at the time, flustered by Mello's complete disdain for the "cancer stick" and by the gesture. Derek had been a chain smoker, leaving a trail of cigarettes behind him straight out the gate after he left during summer. He had been the oldest of the orphanage at eighteen.

He stared at the cigarette uncertainly before fishing out a lighter (again, another gift from Derek the pyromaniac). Matt opened the window, letting in the biting air. He lit the cigarette, watching the end burn for a moment before hesitantly placing it to his lips. He inhaled and felt the smoke burn his throat. It crept into his lungs and he pulled the cigarette away, coughing violently. He leaned out the window and took in huge gulps of the cold air, soothing his burnt throat. It felt like his lungs had been shriveled up and he dry heaved.

"Dammit, Derek made it look so easy...!" He wheezed.

He forced himself to finish the cigarette, tossing the butt out the window. Despite the queasiness in his stomach and his aching lungs, he was starting to feel better. He felt calmer. Then, he felt smug.

"Ha, I just defied Mello." Matt grinned. "Fuck you, Mello!...Uh-oh, I hope his super hearing didn't pick that up."

His computer pinged, the indication he had received mail. Curious, Matt went over to it and looked at his mail. His eyes widened.

**I'm fine. Don't come looking for me. If I need your help I will seek you out.**  
**-M**


	7. Cherry Red

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**I really don't like how short this chapter is, but I couldn't think of anything more to do with it sooo...yeah. Short chapter. Next one will be longer!**

**I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

What the hell? He reread the message and grit his teeth in anger. While he was glad Mello was alive and seemingly well, the rest of the message pissed him off. He felt like a dog waiting for its master to return or beckon him over for a pat on the head. It was a loathsome feeling. For a moment, he wanted to pack his things up and leave the orphanage, just to give Mello a taste of his own medicine. Only, Mello wouldn't know his whereabouts. Would he even want Mello to find him? God knows the trouble Mello would probably bring him. The blond was like a walking bad luck magnet. It seemed no matter what the two were doing, whether it be studying to even sleeping, something bad would happen. Mello always blamed Matt, but Matt blamed Mello.

With an irritated sigh, Matt deleted the message and flopped down on his bed. The idea of leaving just as abruptly as Mello had sobered him. Matt was many things, but reckless was not a trait of his. He needed to plan his departure. The only thing he knew for certain was he was going to go after Mello, but he didn't intend to leave for at least another year or so. For now, he would just have to bide his time.

* * *

Matt slung his bag across a shoulder and grinned lazily at Roger, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're certain about this?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, damn, Roger, I'm seventeen. It's weird having all these anklebiters running around and I'm towering over all of them. Even Cade left before me...Hell, Near left before me! Why, do you want me to stay?" He added the last part teasingly.

Roger's wrinkled scowl conveyed his displeasure. "Of course I don't want you to stay. I must admit, though, taking care of you and Mello certainly has been an...experience. I hope you find what you're looking for, Matt."

"Thanks, Roger. I truly appreciate everything you've done for me, even if I never showed it before." Matt's grin softened and he exited Roger's office.

He adjusted his goggles and squinted his eyes. It was the beginning of summer, the air hot, but light. He had shed his preferred outfit of long sleeve shirts and jeans for a white T-shirt and shorts. He despised summer, but hated winter and spring even more. Winter was too cold and spring brought out his allergies like no other. Fall was his favorite. Of course, England falls were gray and bleak, so he was looking forward to seeing autumn in America. He heard the leaves changed vibrant colors and the air smelled of decaying leaves and cinnamon. It sounded like a beautiful death of the year.

Matt meandered into the airport, casually showing his fake passport and ticket. He moved quickly through security and took his seat on the plane.

He wondered if Mello felt this jittery; heading to a country he's never been to, filled with different customs. Unlike Mello, however, Matt actually researched Los Angeles, so he had an idea about the layout of the city.

* * *

Matt decided he hated flying. Being stuck thousands of feet in the air for several hours with the incessant roar of the engines and a two year old kicking the back of his seat was not his cup of tea. Not to mention the crappy food and lack of water. Oh, god, how he missed water. The minute he stepped into LAX, he ran to the nearest vendor and bought two bottles of water, guzzling them down like he had been trekking the desert for months. The vendor didn't seem fazed by it, like he saw that kind of thing on a daily basis, and handed him his receipt.

He left the airport and groaned at the wave of heat smacking him in the face.

"Damn, I read that L.A. would be hot, but this is ridiculous." He griped to himself, reluctantly leaving the air conditioned airport.

He went to the parking lot, scoping the cars. He was a bit disappointed. Ever since he was young, he had always wanted to get an authentic, vintage, American muscle car. The lot was filled with new cars, glinting in the hot sun.

"What a waste. Bloody Americans don't know the class-" He cut himself off when a cherry red number caught his eye.

It was a 1970 Chevelle. Matt whistled and walked over, running his hand over the hot hood of the car.

"Hello, gorgeous. Well, I found the car I want!" He cheered, pulling out a bobby pin from his short pocket.

He knelt down and carefully jimmied the lock until he heard the door click. Grinning, Matt opened the door and settled into the leather seat. He bent down to look under the steering wheel and quickly set to work hotwiring the car. The engine purred and he straightened up, closing the door and buckling himself in.

"Beautiful! I almost feel sorry for the poor bloke when he sees someone jacked his ride. Ah, well, that's what he gets for buying a classic! Now, let's see if I remember how to drive stick..."

The car jerked a little and Matt cursed softly under his breath. Mello had been the one who was good at driving stick (whenever they felt like taking Roger's junky car for a spin through Winchester, Mello would be the one driving). The blond tried to teach him, and some lessons did stick, but it was so long ago, Matt wasn't sure what he was doing.

"Trial and error. Oh, god, please don't let me die in a car crash."

He made it out of the lot and airport and pulled onto the street, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He decided to do a once over of the city to get more comfortable driving stick and to familiarize himself with the roads.


	8. Idiosyncrasies

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**More reviews please! I know you're out there~! *squints***

**I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

If someone wanted to drop off the radar, Matt would recommend Los Angeles. He scoured the city up and down and had yet to find Mello. There were close encounters (of which "Mello" turned out to be a girl or some guy in drag), but none were his friend. He wasn't even sure what he would do if he found Mello. All he knew was a good punch in the nose was in order and he would be more than happy to give it.

He had been in L.A. for a solid month. A whole month of living in his car. Within a couple hours after he took off in the Chevelle, its license plate number was plastered on the news and billboards and papers. Matt changed it, no sweat. Granted, there weren't a lot of Chevelles roaming the city, but he was lucky enough to pick up the same model as a couple hundred other people in the city. Paint job and all.

It was late August and downpouring, a rare sight indeed, when he noticed someone who peaked his interest. It was a girl.

When he thought back to Wammy's, he couldn't recall ever having a crush. The closest girl he had been with was Cade and he had barely concealed contempt for her (not so much in the later years). He had a few girls interested in him, all of which he stolidly rejected. A couple of them were cute, but he was too lazy to maintain a relationship.

It wasn't like he was planning on asking the girl out, but he couldn't help but notice her. She was standing underneath an overhang of a closed shop, arms folded across her chest. She looked forlorn, glaring at the rain as if it had kicked her puppy. He couldn't tell from where he was, but it looked like she had dark eyes to match her dark hair and tanned skin.

He wasn't sure what spurred him to offer her a ride home, but by the time he began to second guess himself, the girl was in his car, wringing her long hair out.

They talked a little bit, he learned her name was Excell (an odd name, but no stranger than his own) and her parents were hotshot lawyers persecuting evildoers in the name of justice (Kira)! She was also two years younger than him. She found him annoying and arrogant, he found her opinionated (too much for a fifteen year old) and a typical-rich-kid-denying-it-saying-it's-her-parents. Yet, she still intrigued him, enough so he would like to see her again.  
Matt dropped her off at her stone mansion and she smiled hesitantly at him. Like she thought she should pay him or something. He gave her a look that said otherwise.

"Yeah...so, thanks. Bye." She opened the car door.

"Adios." He gave a little wave and watched her run inside and felt a little pang of jealousy. He missed his bed.

He backed his car out of the driveway and rode around the city for a bit, smoking cigarette after cigarette. His mind kept drifting back to Excell.

He wasn't sure why he offered the girl a ride. Logically, it made no sense. He didn't care for people, other than Mello, of course, but they weren't people. They were like him; pseudo humans. That's the way he thought of all Wammy kids. There was no way any of them would be half as intelligent as they were if they weren't orphans. It was like becoming a foundling instantly made you a genius or something.

But, he was getting sidetracked. He wasn't going to bring up Wammy's House to himself. It was a place that didn't have anything to do with his future. Matt did not care for people. End of story.

Yet, when he saw how puppy innocent that girl was, he saw himself; someone lost in a world not fitted for them. He felt a connection to her, even if she had parents, and even if those parents worshiped Kira. Honestly, he had no opinion or interest in Kira. He didn't worry himself with interests in the world. That's why he played video games. Fantasy was so much better (and not to mention cooler) than reality.

Matt didn't know why it mattered to him, though. That girl, he meant. He would never see her again and there was no way he would drag her into the potential tangle he would be in once he finally found Mello. She was an outsider, anyway.

He parked his car under a bridge where he knew cops didn't patrol. Last thing he needed was to be arrested for living in his car. He shut the engine off and stuck another cigarette between his lips, lighting it. He inhaled the poisonous fumes, holding them in until his lungs screamed for clean air, and exhaled.

"I blame Mello for my smoking. Didn't start the damn habit until after he left." He said aloud, taking a copule more drags.

It was easy to blame Mello for a lot of his destructive tendencies now that the blond wasn't around to pummel him for complaining about them. He blamed Mello for his martyrdom attitude and Matt blamed him for turning him into a loyal dog. Mello's loyal dog. He would never be as loyal to anyone else except for Mello.

"Hell, I left my warm bed to fuckin' find him, the stupid prick."

Still, it was easy to miss him at the same time.

Matt finished his cigarette and flicked it outside his window. He reclined his seat and took his goggles off, tossing them in the passenger seat. They fell and hit something.

"Hmm?" He glanced at the floor of the passenger seat and groaned.

"Dammit. That girl left her shit in my car. Now I'm going to have to give it to her."

He looked at his watch. 11:57. He grunted.

"She can wait until the morning." He decided, shutting his eyes.

* * *

He could add "jerk" to the extensive list of Things-Excell-Thought-About-Him. He could have been nicer to her, sure, but wasn't calling him a jerk a bit far?

Matt found her high school, which was easy enough, and entered the crowded hallways. He blended in well enough, minus his strange pick in clothes, and looked over the heads of students. He finally found her talking to a short blonde girl with curly hair.

"...he seemed like a jerk!" She had her back to him. Blondie noticed him and quirked a pale eyebrow at him with curiosity.

"Ouch. And after I spent my morning hunting you down." He interrupted, holding her backpack out.

Excell turned around, her face pale. She apologized and he left after giving her her backpack. Before he was even out of earshot, he heard Blondie exclaim, "Oh my god, you lucky girl! He IS hot!"

Matt knew he was attractive enough, he didn't need someone to assure him daily he was, but the compliment stroked his ego and he exited the school feeling good. He decided to look for Mello some more.

He tried all the usual spots (all the chocolate shops and bookstores), then broadened his search to bars. He used his fake I.D. to get in, sipped a beer, and studied each bar. No sign of Mello. Okay, maybe he wasn't expecting Mello to be in shady spots like a bar, but it was a damn good reason for him to sneak a couple beers.

He grumbled to himself, irritated with his search. Did Mello lie to him? He wouldn't put it past the blond, but perhaps Mello had changed his mind at the last second and went someplace else. Matt couldn't possibly think of anywhere else Mello could have gone and it was disheartening to think he could be anywhere in the world. His instinct, though, was telling him if Mello wasn't here now, he would be soon. He wasn't sure if it was instinct more so than false hope.

Matt tried a different approach. He tried to think like Mello. It didn't exactly go as well as he thought it would since he ended up craving chocolate and feel like he had a stick up his ass. He concentrated further, past the shallow concept of Mello, and into the nougat (god, how he wanted something filled with nougat!). Mello was a barely moral individual whose motto was "be the best by any means necessary." Would Mello actually have the balls to join a crime syndicate?

Matt snorted at the idea. Mello didn't have the patience to work his way up the ranks of a syndicate; he would take the whole damn thing over by storm. Besides, Mello would probably become someone's bitch with in moments. After all, he may have been tough, but if Matt's idea of a crime family was accurate, they were tougher. Still...he didn't rule the idea out.

* * *

He ran into Excell again several weeks after first meeting her. He somehow ended up moving into her closet. She had insisted after he told her he was living in his car.

He wasn't comfortable with the idea of living under the same roof as heretics (after all what if God chose to smite them for worshiping a false god?), but her incessant needling finally got to him and he agreed, if only to shut her up.

It was strange, sleeping in a closet. Her closet was large enough for three of him, but he couldn't help but think of all the gay jokes surrounding closets. He half expected Excell to crack one every time he exited the closet, but she never said anything. He wasn't sure if it was because she was that naive or respected him enough to leave it alone.

Besides his peculiar living arrangements, his roommate was weird as well. All she did was study! It reminded him of Mello, only she didn't have a one sided rivalry or suffer from an inferiority complex the size of Europe (he hoped Mello didn't hear that). She studied because it was all she knew. It was sad really and he couldn't help but think how much like a Wammy kid her existence was. Only, she wasn't competing for a title. She was competing for monotony.


	9. Mello's Return

**Kiku the Shinigami- Thank you =)**

**Imaginefun- XD I would, too. And you're right, I should!**

**I have a MattxOC story already posted on here if any of you would like to read it. It's a little out of date and I plan on updating it and my NearxOC story soon!**

**I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

Matt gaped at the blond sitting before him. Was it really Mello? Had he really changed that much from his time in the city? Sure, Mello always liked wearing black, but now he was wearing black, shiny leather...and a feathered boa.

"Dude, are you wearing a feathered boa?" Matt deadpanned.

He could feel snickers bubbling up, but forced himself to swallow them. For now. Mello, on the other hand, looked far from amused, self consciously touching his hood. "No, it's not a feather boa, moron! Don't be stupid!"

"Well, Mels, I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me. Seems to me you're more gender confused than when you left Wammy's. The girly haircut was fine, but c'mon...leather pants? How can 'the boys' breathe?" Matt leaned forward on his elbows, the snicker now evident in his voice.

Mello snarled, reaching over to cuff the redhead over the back of his head. "Shut the fuck up, Matt! At least I can actually match my fucking clothes! I didn't call you to talk idly."

Matt chuckled softly, nodding his head. He may hate Mello, but he still missed screwing with him. "Alright, why has His Highness grace me, a humble gamer, with his ethereal presence?"

"...The Kira case." Matt's amusement shrank back down to zero and his smile dropped.

_Of course that's all he wanted to talk about. Not because I'm his best friend or anything._ He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "And what about it?"

"I got into contact with the L.A. Mafia. My plan is to use them to find Kira before Near does."

Matt placed a cigarette between his lips, but didn't bother lighting it. He knew where this was going and he didn't like it. "Lemme guess; you want me to join, too, huh? And do what; hacking? You know, I hear these guys really don't like geeks."

"They also don't like intelligence, what's your point?" Mello bit into his chocolate bar impatiently, eyeing the cigarette with distaste.

"My point is, Mello, once our abilities are no longer useful to them, they'll get rid of us. Now, I dunno about you, but I'd like to make it to my twentieth birthday. Not everyone has a death wish like you."

Mello's eyes narrowed. "Matt, you're my best friend. When we first met, we made a pact to stick with each other so we wouldn't be alone. Or have you forgotten that?"

_Fuck. It figures he'd bring that up._ Matt sighed. "No, I haven't forgotten."

"Then why are you so hesitant? I know you're pissed at me for leaving you behind, but you know why I did it! I needed to make a place for us first before you joined me." Mello said, sounding softer.

_What would happen with Excell? I don't want to just leave. But..._Matt grunted. "...Fine, but the minute things get bad, I'm going to be the one shooting you in the fucking head."

Mello grinned and the two clasped their hands together, making the agreement official. "Back at ya."

"Changing topic, what have you been up to the last few years?" Mello inquired.

Matt shrugged. "Left Wammy's a couple years ago to find your sorry ass. Stole this sweet ride; a 1970 Chevelle. You know how long I've wanted one of those. Been hanging around L.A. for the past year or so. I finally got a place to stay. How about you, besides taking over the crime underworld?"

Mello's expression turned sheepish and Matt relaxed his posture with some interest. "That bad, man?"

"Depends on how you like children." Matt's eyes widened and he spit his cigarette out.

"What?! You have a-" Mello reached over and clasped Matt's mouth tightly.

"Not so loud! It's already a risk for me to be out here, I don't need you to go blabbing about that!" He hissed, blue eyes flashing.

Matt grimaced, disliking the taste of Mello's leather gloves, and nodded his head. Mello pulled his hand back and Matt bombarded him with questions.

"With who? Boy or girl? What's his/her name? What are you going to do with him/her? When can I meet him/her? How old? Where's ma? Can I be the godfather?"

Mello shot him an annoyed expression. "Some whore, girl, Rinzen, keeping her, never, four, I dunno, no."

Matt pouted. "Aw, but I wanna meet Mello Jr.! You know I've always wanted to be a godfather!"

"Matt, you aren't even religious." Mello pointed out exasperatedly.

He shrugged. "So? I wanna be a 'god' something. It sounds neat. Anyway, how'd you end up with-"

"I made a mistake, Matt. Now I have to pay for it for the rest of my life. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like my kid, but I'm not meant to be a father. I'm considering taking her to Wammy's once this whole thing is over with." Mello sighed, rubbing his temples.

Matt pursed his mouth sympathetically. "Will you be able to do it?"

"I dunno, Matt."

Matt felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he pulled it out. Excell. He answered it.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, can you come pick me up? My sister's backed out again." She let out a sigh.

He looked at Mello, his expression contrite, and grunted. "Sure. Be there in..." He calculated the time quickly, "fifteen minutes."

"'Kay, thanks." She hung up and he pocketed his phone again.

Mello was looking at him curiously, watching him stand up. "I gotta go."

"Who was that?"

Matt paused. _I shouldn't mention her. Who knows how Mello would react...Oh, wait. I do. He'd shoot me, find her, then shoot her, too. God, I hate his jealousy._ "Work. I'm working at a nearby GameStop."

The lie was believable enough and Mello rolled his eyes, standing up as well. Matt noticed in irritation Mello had grown taller than him.

"I'll call you when the boss gives the okay. In the mean time, work on your hacking skills. Can't have you getting rusty." Mello pulled his hood over his head.

Matt scowled. "Rusty, my ass."

The two left the cafe, going their separate ways. As Matt drove to pick Excell up, all he could think about what he had agreed to.

_This is going to go straight down the drain. There's no way this is going to work. Ugh, Mello just likes shortening my life more than my cigarettes already do._

* * *

He had been having a nice night with Excell, playing video games, meeting her god-awful parents, talking with her. He loved talking with her, glad he found someone who was intellectually equivalent. Of course, Mello had to go and ruin it.

**The docks. Midnight.**

He made Excell go to bed when she showed concern about his expression. He couldn't let her know he was joining the mafia (or getting whacked by them). So, when he was certain she was dead to the world, he left.

Part of him was on edge; what if it was a trap? _No. Mello wouldn't do that to me...Would he? Just in case..._He reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a rusty pistol. It had been there when he jacked the car. He still doubted Mello and almost felt sorry about it, but the docks was a suspicious meeting place. Maybe Mello didn't even know. Maybe the two of them were about to be dumped into the river, fishes nibbling on their toes.

_I hate seafood..._He grumbled in his head. He finally arrived and parked his car. As he got out of the car, he concealed the pistol in the back of his pants, grateful his shirt was baggy enough no one would be able to notice the weapon. He just hoped they didn't pat him down or decide to do a cavity search.

There were several large, burly men standing there. In the middle was Mello, significantly shorter and thinner than all of them, yet standing amongst them like he was the boss. Matt cautiously walked over, eyeing all the unfamiliar men with what he hoped was with a tough-guy-scowl.

"This is the guy? Ain't he a bit scrawny?" A man with a shaved head and a thin red mustache and beard snorted at him.

_Does he think hackers are some fat asses? Okay, maybe some are, but come on; that is a stereotype!_  
"This is him. He's a genius when it comes to hacking. Aren't you, Matt?" Mello looked over at him, hands in his pockets.

_Translation: you better remember how to hack, you bug-eyed bastard._

"That's me. Give me a computer and I can hack into any top secret file you can think of." Matt was staring at Mello while he was talking.

_Translation: no promises, but you owe me big time if they kill me._

"What's with the goggles?" Another asked, grabbing hold of them in the front and letting it snap back into Matt's face.

Matt cringed and glared at the guy. "What's with your face?"

There was a pause and Matt suddenly felt the urge to bolt to his car, but then the guy with the red mustache began to laugh. Soon, the others, except Mello, joined in. "Heh, he's got you there, Skiar. Okay, Mello, tell him what his first job is."

Mello nodded and Matt was surprised how easily Mello took the order. Back at Wammy's, you couldn't tell the blond anything unless you wanted a broken nose. He said, "In order to see just how well your hacking skills are, we want you to hack into the Japanese Task Force's database. Pull any file you want."

Matt nodded and Mello handed him a laptop. Sitting on the dock, Matt set to work, lighting a cigarette as he worked through the firewall in the Japanese Task Force's database. It had been years since he had done this, but his brain switched to autopilot. He didn't think as he set up a virus, attacking the firewall with gusto. He was in his element, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard. Mello lit a cigarette for him and he blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

Within a few minutes, he pulled a file out with the names of the Task Force. He turned and looked at the guys.  
"This good?" He asked, cigarette bobbing in his mouth as he spoke.

Chrome-Dome, as Matt decided to fondly call the guy with the mustache, nodded his head in approval. "Alright, you'll be on hiatus. Whenever we need a computer job done, you come the second we call you."

Matt stood up and nodded, handing the computer back to Mello. "If that's all, I should be getting back."

He turned and walked from them, his heart thudding against his ribcage._ Looks like I really will be part of the mafia. Dammit, Mello, you owe me so much for doing this._


	10. Please God

**Imaginefun- Thank you ^^**

**I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

Life in the mafia wasn't too difficult, but keeping Mello from discovering Excell exerted so much energy. Matt would try to leave early, Mello and he would jump at each other's throats, arguing about the fact Matt was socially retarded who shouldn't have any place important to go. Matt argued Mello was being a control reak and remarked the stick in his ass had evolved into a tree. In the end, Matt left Excell and resided at the hideout twenty four seven. That had been a year ago. He wasn't happy about it then and he wasn't happy about it now. And he made sure Mello knew it.

"I am not going on a chocolate run for you." He growled, glaring at his DS.

"The hell you aren't! Do it!" Mello snapped, standing over him with his hands on his hips.

"Do I look like your errand boy? No. I'm your fucking hacker. Go get one of your slackers to do it; I'm busy."

Suddenly, his game was ripped out of his hands. Matt blinked before he heard the sound of it smashing into a bunch of pieces. He was up in a second, shoving Mello.

"What the hell, man?! You owe me a new DS!"

Matt wasn't a violent person. He didn't care much for violence (in real life) and he seldom got angry. But, when you mess with his games, his temper rivaled that of Mello's. Mello, of course, knew that but still liked poking the already temperamental Matt with the figurative stick.

Mello shoved him back. "Next time do what I tell you to, fucknut!"

Matt decked him then, the back of his mind realizing it was the first time he had ever been able to punch Mello. He was contrite, though, the moment Mello's fist went flying for his face.

"Ouch! Did you have to hit me that hard?" He complained, rubbing his sore jaw.

He noted Mello had been holding back when no blood came from his mouth. Bastard. Thinks I can't take a hit?

"Don't be a wimp, Matt. Now go get my damn chocolate." Mello grumbled, sitting back on his couch.

Matt glowered at him for a moment longer before reluctantly going to the kitchen to get the chocolate. It wasn't even that much of a hassle; he just didn't want to seem willing. He tossed a bar to Mello, absentmindedly listening to him talk about his big plans.

"Matt, you're going to go to Japan and set up base there."

Matt groaned. "Damn, Japan, really? Thirteen hours?"

Mello rolled his eyes. "Don't complain. Just do it, okay?"

"Sure, sure, whatever. Do I leave now?"

"Yes, you leave now!" Mello tossed him a spare key to what Matt assumed to be for his apartment. He caught them clumsily, ignored the snickers from the neanderthals, and headed to the exit.

While he was heading to the airport, he saw Excell. He drove past her in a daze and found himself sneaking into her room later that night. She smacked him and he tried to explain himself, successfully getting her to forgive him. He spent the night with her, their first and last time together.

The next morning he experienced a rude awakening by Excell's parents. They had come barging in, he had gotten punched (why was everyone hitting him?!), and now he was trying to help her find a place to stay. She was kicked out, disowned. He felt bad about it, but she refused any apology.

"It's fine, really. I'd rather it be you than some guy I'm not certain about. You're worth it, Matt." She smiled tearily at him.

He smiled slightly back, her words warming him. He ended up dropping her at Blondie's house. He promised he would come back as soon as he could, kissed her, and left.

* * *

He hated flying just as much as he did the first time, only now it was thirteen hours. The constant noise of the engine was about to make him go mad, he had no game to keep him distracted. He was ready to break down when the plane finally landed. He was relieved to say the least.

Matt found a cheap apartment and started to set up shop. He plugged in his three laptops, secured them, and called Mello.

"What?" Matt rolled his eyes.

"Nice to talk to you, too. I found an apartment and having everything all set. What are my next orders?" He added the last bit sarcastically, but whether Mello picked up on it, he didn't know. The blond seemed to just ignore it.

"Keep tabs on the Task Force, specifically Light Yagami. Also, keep out for any of Near's chronies. You remember their names and faces, right?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah: Hal Lidner, Stephen Gevanni, and Anthony Rester."

"Nice work. If you happen to locate Near, lemme know. I wanna know where the little white rat is."

"You got it, chief. Talk to you soon." Matt hung up and sighed, slouching in the ratty couch.

He could use food. And a nap. And a massage. Oh, how great a massage would be right now, he thought. Instead, he opted for ramen and a cigarette. As he smoked, he let his thoughts drift to Kira, something he never did.

While he held no opinion of Kira or what he was doing, he hated him for one reason. He haunted Mello. Before, it had been Near, now it was Near and Kira. Mello was a man obsessed and Matt always wondered: what was next? Mello had given up his succession rights, so what would he do with his life? Would he remain in the mafia? Or would he become a detective similar to L? Speaking of life, what was Matt going to do? He could imagine doing hacking for clients, or maybe open up his own autobody shop. He liked technology and was good at it; at least he had an extensive field to fall back on once this was all over. But Mello? The only thing he liked was chocolate and God.

Matt smirked to himself. The idea of Mello actually being reverent toward something was laughable, yet he had caught the blond on his knees praying before. It was a startling sight, the latin words slipping out of his mouth so easily. Matt didn't even know Mello was religious and then realized why he was. He regretted the path he was on. It was sad really. What surprised him further, though, was when he heard his own name in the prayer. Did Mello pray for him? If so, what did he pray for? Was it for Matt's safety? Or for him to get hit by a bus because he was so damn useless?

His phone rang suddenly, shrilly, and he jumped. He scowled when he saw the caller ID and answered it.

"What, Mello? I thought you-"

"M-Matt..." Who was this? It certainly didn't sound like Mello. This voice was thin, weak.

"Mello? What is it? What happened?" The concern came so easily to him.

"D-damn Task Force came...I-I had to bail...Matt, they have the notebook...I, god, I hate to admit it, but I need help...1-1498 West Ave. Third floor, apartment 209. Ri-" The line abruptly went dead.

"Mello? Mello! Answer me, dammit!" Matt snapped his phone shut and dialed the only number he could think of.

"Halle, you don't know me, but I'm a friend of Mello's. He's hurt badly."

"Mello's hurt?" She repeated, an unknown emotion in her voice.

He opened his mouth to continue, but heard the phone being handed to someone else. He was shocked when he heard that familiar, monotonous voice. "This is Near."

"It's Matt. Listen, I just got a call from Mello. Apparently, he blew up his hideout and now he's seriously hurt; that fucking Japanese Task Force came after him. I can't get to him because I'm in Japan. I've booked a flight to return to the States, but it'll still take me over thirteen hours to get there." He said breathlessly, looking at the clock on the wall. How long had it been when the Task Force raised Mello's hideout?

"Where is he located?" Near asked calmly. Matt almost envied him.

"1498 West Avenue; it's an apartment building. He's located on the third floor, apartment 209. Los Angeles."

There was a pause at Near's end. Matt gripped his cell phone tightly. "That is problematic. You see, I am currently located in New York."

_No, this couldn't be happening!_ "_SHIT!_ S-so, now what? Am I supposed to just sit here and let him die?! Can't you do _something?!_"

"Thank you for notifying me, Matt. I'll do what I can." Near hung up.

"H-hey! Near! Damn you, tell me what you're going to do!" He bellowed into his phone vainly.

Matt slumped down on the couch, holding his head in his hands. He's never felt the urge to pray, but he kept repeating the same thing over and over in his head.

_Please, God, let him live._


	11. Father?

**Imaginefun- XD I just love the idea of Matt being brave enough to punch Mello. As for Rue, you'll see~!**

**I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

Matt hopped on the first flight bound for New York (after Near had been so gracious as to give him the location), and took a taxi to the building. No sooner had he gotten there, Mello came sprinting out of the building, wearing nothing but sweatpants.

"What the hell?" Matt opened the car door and Mello bounded in, breathing heavily.

He had removed the bandages, the wounds raw and bleeding. The taxi driver made an exclamation, but Matt snapped, "Drive, man, freaking drive!"

The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb and into the road again. Matt threw the address of one of his hideouts out at the man, all the while staring at Mello. Though the two weren't touching, Matt could feel the heat radiating off Mello and it worried him. He reached a hand out and carefully touched Mello's forehead. It was burning.

"Damn, you got one hell of a fever." He muttered.

Mello didn't say anything, his chest heaving. His eyes were closed and Matt figured he had slipped into unconsciousness. The drive was silent and Matt gave the driver an extra hundred to keep his mouth shut before dragging Mello up three flight of stairs to his hideout.

He leaned him against the couch and grimaced at the angry burns.

"You really screwed yourself up, Mello."

Mello came to at one point and weakly instructed Matt how to treat his wounds, fading in and out. A thought struck Matt.

"Mello? Mello, where is Rinzen? Matt shook him a little.

Mello mumbled tiredly, "Don't worry; Hal has her...I-I'm in no shape to..."

He trailed off, falling asleep. Matt shook his head stressfully. "You better not die on me, man."

* * *

The next few days were touch and go. Mello was slowly gaining back strength and Matt kept up on cleaning the wounds and changing the bandages. He was glad, though; Near's men (or whoever first cleaned the wounds) had done a decent job. He felt a bit bad at the same time; Mello would have some nasty scars.

When a week passed, Matt woke up to find Mello gone. He was a bit worried, but the blond returned, with Rinzen, and a picture of himself as a youth. Matt hadn't met Rinzen yet and was shocked at the resemblance between her and Mello. She had the same cutting blue eyes and hair, but her expression was warmer. She smiled shyly up at him.

"Hey, kiddo." He greeted her, smiling back at her.

She waved before hiding behind Mello, hugging his leg. Mello ignored her and held his hand out to Matt. Matt gave him a high five, blinking. Mello growled.

"Give me your lighter, moron."

"Oh." Matt grinned sheepishly and pulled his lighter out.

Mello snatched it from him and set fire to the picture.

"Why'd you do that?" Rinzen asked, watching him drop the burning photo in the fireplace.

"It's the last photo of me in existence. The bad guys might try to use that to hurt me." He said softly.

Matt folded his arms across his chest. "What's next, chief?"

Mello pulled a chocolate bar, snapping off a bit and handing it to Rinzen before taking a monster bite out of the remainder of it. "We return to Japan and continue our pursuit. Rinzen's coming, too, obviously. At some point, I think Near will be going there, and I don't want to burden Hal with her any longer."

"Wouldn't she be safer at-" Matt cut himself off when Mello sent him a glare.

"Or not, sorry for suggesting it..." He mumbled.

Rinzen looked between the two confusedly before holding her hands up at Mello. He looked down at her and shrugged something off his back. To Matt's surprise and amusement, it was a little backpack in the shape of a dog's head. He handed it to her and she skipped off, hugging the backpack to her chest. Mello glowered at Matt and pointed a finger at him warningly.

"Don't say a word."

Matt coughed to hide his poorly disguised guffaw. "I didn't say anything, man."

Mello grunted and called, "Rinzen!"

The little girl came running over, hugging a stuffed bunny. "Yeah, daddy?"

Daddy. Matt snorted. Mello ignored him. "We're going out. Where are your boots?"

She plopped down on the ground and pulled her furry boots on. "On my feet!"

Matt watched Mello bend down to take her hand and felt a strange pang. He couldn't place what the feeling was, but noticed it felt similar to jealousy. He had enver thought about having kids before, but seeing Mello interact with his daughter made him kind of want one. It looked fun.

The three of them left the apartment, Rinzen skipping off ahead of them and waiting when Mello warned her not to go too far. He seemed tense and Matt asked, "What's wrong?"

Mello shook his head. "Nothing. Go ahead with Rinzen; I'll catch up."

He abruptly turned down a side road and disappeared from sight. Matt paused for a minute, unsure Something seemed to have spooked Mello, enough so he wanted them to split up. A tiny hand on his calf startled him and he looked down. Rinzen was staring up at him curiously.

"Where's daddy?"

"He had to do something; he'll be back in a few minutes." He assured her (and himself).

He took her hand and walked a couple hundred feet before he heard an eerily familiar voice cry, "D-don't shoot, please!"

_Excell?!_ Matt picked up his pace and looked down an alley.

Mello had Excell pinned to the wall, one hand around her throat and the other pressing his gun to her temple. Rinzen whimpered.

Matt called, "Mels?"

Mello snapped his head in his direction, his eyes dark with fury.

"This bitch knows my name and I'm debating on whether I should just kill her and leave her body here or what. Any suggestions?"

Matt glanced at Excell and his cigarette fell out of his gaping mouth. He couldn't understand what she was doing there. Was it coincidence or had she seeked him out? Realizing Mello was staring at him with a raised eyebrow, he stamped the cigarette out and grunted apathetically, "Just let her go, Mello. I think you've scared her enough."  
He looked at her indifferently and added, "You won't go blabbing his name, right?"

She quickly shook her head, eyes never leaving his face. Mello scowled and stepped back from her. He jabbed her in the chest with his index finger.

"Don't follow us or else I will shoot you." He growled.

She remained perfectly still, watching as Mello sauntered down the street, glancing over his shoulder. Matt stared at her. Mello noticed Matt wasn't following him and he called, "C'mon, Matt!"

Matt didn't look away from her as he called, "I'll be there soon. I need to make sure our little friend here isn't lying."

Suspicious but seeming somewhat satisfied with his answer, Mello nodded and disappeared around a corner. Once his heavy footsteps were out of earshot, Matt asked, "E, what are you doing here?"

"Um, I went looking for you to tell you something. Now that you're here and I'm thoroughly traumatized, I don't think I can say it." She laughed shakily, her hands gripping her elbows.

His nose wrinkled up in amusement. "It can't be worse than having a psychotic chocoholic waving a gun around in your face. I mean, I know he's kinda scary, but-"

"I'm pregnant."

Matt's jaw fell open and he closed it together with a sharp click. He rubbed the back of his neck. _Damn, I didn't wear protection?_ "Erm...I take that back. That is worse. Dammit. Why didn't you just call me?"

She sniffed, seeming dejected by his response. He was happy to see her, but not under these circumstances. He almost felt contrite for thinking earlier how much he wanted a kid before._ Karma is a bitch._

"I deleted your number. I literally didn't find out until like, thirteen hours ago. A-and I thought you should know. I'm not expecting anything out of you."

For a moment, they stood there in absolute silence. Excell was chewing on her bottom lip anxiously, breaking the skin. Matt ran a hand through his hair, the corners of his mouth pulled down in a frown as he thought over what she had told him. He couldn't turn his back on her, not when she is going to be the mother of his child. It almost physically hurt him to even consider it to be an option.

"I wanna be there. After this case, I mean. Can't go runnin' off on Mello otherwise he'd shoot me. Will you let me be there?" He looked down at her, his eyes wide and concerned beneath.

She sighed in relief and nodded.

Matt offered an uncertain smile and decided to change the subject. "So, how long are you staying here?"

"We were going to stay for as long as it took for me to find you. But, since I found you on the first day here, we'll probably leave tomorrow or in a couple days. Paz wants to go sightseeing and I figure I shouldn't deny her the opportunity to get cultured."

He nodded and placed a hand on her back, gently nudging her to the busy street. They walked together for a little ways, Matt keeping a cautious eye out for Mello.

He said, "I'll try to see you in the next couple weeks. Depends on how busy Mels keeps me. Can you stay for a couple weeks? If money is a problem, I can give you some. I have some dough now thanks to my 'job.' Oh, and you and Paz are welcome to stay at my hideout. I'm hardly there."

"O-oh, no I coul-"

He pouted slightly. "C'mon, please? An eye for an eye, remember? You let me live with you, now it's time I returned the favor."

She shook her head. "We really can't, Matt. We have break, but that ends in three days. We need to be back by then."

He looked at her sadly, but reluctantly nodded. "Yeah, yeah, you're right...Sorry."

They stopped about half a block from the hotel and she turned to face him. He smiled lazily at her and touched her cheek for a minute.

"Well, if I don't see you again here, I'll see you back at LA. I intend to go back there once this case is over with." He withdrew his hand and put it in his pockets.

"How much longer?" She sounded tired about the case and so was he.

He shrugged. "Mello figures it'll be over within a month. Hopefully, he's right. Then again, that's the shortest amount of time. Don't worry; it's not going to last longer than four months. It should be over by the time the baby's born. Think you can last that long?"

She nodded and his smile widened. "Good. I'll see you."

He turned and walked off, then turned around, taking a couple steps back. "Lemme know if it's gonna be a boy or a girl!"

She smiled and called, "I will!"

He waved and disappeared into the throngs of people, feeling relieved he had a reason to survive this case.


	12. The End of Mail Jeevas

**Lizi Rinz- ^^" Sorry, I was being lazy! No, I haven't **

**Final chapter! Thanks to all who reviewed and followed the story!**

**I do not own Death Note!**

* * *

Matt stumbled out of his room one morning, blinking blearily. He yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and noticed Mello's stricken expression. He had seen him with that particular expression only once before: when L died. Instantly, he was on guard. Who died? He wanted to ask. Instead, he said:

"What's with you? You sick or something?"

Mello's eyes were glazed over and looked through Matt rather than at him. His body was slouched and both feet were planted on the ground, a rare sight for Matt, who only knew Mello to sit up ramrod straight and have at least one leg splayed across the arm of a couch.

"I'm going to die tonight, Matt." Matt gaped at him for a moment and snorted.

"Good one, Mello, but we need to work on your sense of humor. It's a little-"

"Matt. In all the years you have known me, when have I ever joked?" Mello asked rhetorically, a nuance of annoyance flashing across his face.

Matt considered his friend. He had a point; Mello was always so serious, to start joking now would be odd. Matt's eyes widened. "Wait, what? Why?!"

"Keep your voice down! I don't want Rinzen to wake up." Mello hissed, eyes flicking briefly to the closed bedroom door where she was sleeping.

"Good!" He didn't want Rinzen to wake up, either. "And just what is that that you are planning?"

_There has to be a loophole for him. His death shouldn't be required. I'll find the fucking loophole._

"I'm going to kidnap Kiyomi Takada during her motorcade tonight and interrogate her. You will create a diversion. After you do that, shake off the heat and come back for Rinzen and go to Near's headquarters. I showed you where it was, so hopefully you still remember...and don't tell her. At least, not until after the mission is completed." Mello's eyes were downcast, as though he couldn't bear to look at his friend.

It scared Matt to see the once volatile blond look and act so defeated. He wondered what caused this sudden change. Just last night, he was fine. _Someone must have called him. There's no way he would have just come to this conclusion himself._ He grit his teeth, drew his fist back, and punched Mello directly in the jaw. He stumbled back from the force and stared at his friend with wide eyes.

"Do you have any idea what this will do to her?! This will _destroy_ Rinzen and you are just going to stand there and go with the plan? You're so fucking selfish; you always wanted something to die for! And to leave your _four year old_ daughter alone?! She doesn't have a mother and you're going to deny her a father, too?!" Matt struggled to keep his voice down. He didn't want Rinzen to hear this.

Mello rubbed his sore jaw and looked dejectedly at the floor. "Nothing you say is going to change my mind, Matt. This has to be done and I'm the only one I can do it. And don't think for one second that I haven't considered how this would affect Rinzen. But...this is more important."

Hurt crossed Matt's face, but it didn't surprise him. Once Mello had his mind set on something, nothing could deter him, not even his own blood. Matt's fists clenched and for a second, he considered hitting Mello again. Then, he sighed and relaxed his fists.

"Alright...I'll go along with your plan, but I'm blaming you when Rinzen hates me for not stopping her father."

Mello nodded. "We won't leave until later this afternoon. Get dressed; I'll wake up Rinzen."

Matt stared at him with disbelief. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

Mello glared at him. "Of course not! I'm dropping her off with Hal; I can't leave her alone all day."

Matt scowled, but went back to his room, coming out a few minutes later in a black and red striped shirt and his goggles placed firmly over his eyes. He went over to the dinner table and grabbed his laptop before retreating into his room. He opened it and started to record himself.

Matt's leg jiggled anxiously and he pushed his goggles up, revealing his dark blue eyes.

He gave a little wave. "Hey, um...Matt here. Of course, you'll probably know me better as 'dad.'"

He paused for a moment and chuckled softly. "Wow, even saying that word is weird; I don't remember ever using it before. See, my own dad wasn't around so I never met him. He could be out there, alive, for all I know. Anyway, yeah. I'm your dad. I just found out a few weeks ago that your mom, Excell, was pregnant. Right now, I think you're the size of a peanut, or at least that's what Excell told me. Oh, I should probably mention the date. It's um, I think it's the 26 of January."

"Obviously, I don't know if you're a boy or a girl, but I'm hoping boy. It'd be cool to have someone to play video games with. I'll teach you and everything! My best friend, your Uncle Mello," He looked around warily and whispered, "Don't tell him I called him that. Anyway, Mello isn't good at video games so I always destroy him. Besides, after today..."

Matt felt his face fall, but he forced himself to grin grinned. "Sorry 'bout that. We're working on a case right now and Mello told me something that I didn't like. What's worse is that he made me promise not to let his little girl know. I can never tell her even after this is all over with."

The sad feeling returned, but this time, he didn't bother to laugh it off. He sighed and ran a hand through his wine colored hair. "No, I can't lie to you about this. Look, uh, kid, I'm not gonna survive this mission. I plan on dying with my best friend. I'm not sure how I'll die, but I don't care. Now, before you get mad at me or Mello, you need to understand something. This goes to you, too, Excell; don't blame Mello for my decision. See, back at our orphanage, Mello and I made a pact. We promised to stick with each other until the end and if one is going down, then the other is going down right with him. I think he forgot about that last bit because he told me he wanted me to escape. Sorry, Mello, don't fucking count on that."

Matt rubbed his eyes and felt a lump begin to form in his throat. He swallowed thickly.

"You may not understand, kid, but trust me, once you find the one person who will actually give a damn about you, you'll do the same. Hopefully, though, it won't lead to your death. I'm sorry I won't be there to see you grow up, but, and I know this is going to sound corny but stay with me here, I will be watching over you. I don't believe in God and all that crap, but I'm going to try my damndest to make sure I can watch over you. And, even though you aren't born yet...I do love you. I love your mother. And I'm sorry to both of you. This is the last video existence of Mail Jeevas, aka Matt." Matt smiled once before he stood up, cutting the camera off.

"Matt, we should get going." Mello called.

"Yeah."

Matt pulled his boots on and stuck his revolver behind his head before exiting his room. Mello was no longer in the living room and Rinzen's door was open. Matt quietly stood in the doorway.

The blond was helping Rinzen get dressed, pulling a long sleeved shirt over her head. She looked sleepy and protested weakly when he yanked a pair of jeans up her legs. Mello pulled his rosary over his head and placed it over her head. She grabbed the cross and looked at it curiously. He reached out a hand and carefully stroked her hair. He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"I love you." He whispered.

Suddenly, Matt felt like he was intruding and went back to the living room. He lit a cigarette and patiently waited for Mello. He came out about five minutes later, his pallor face still completely blank. Rinzen seemed oblivious.

Wordlessly, the two boys went out to where their vehicles were and stood in front of each other.

"Take care of her, Matt." Mello murmured, too softly for Rinzen to hear.

"I will...I'm gonna miss you, man." Matt admitted, blinking fast behind his goggles. His eyes were starting to get scratchy.

Mello smirked and the two bumped their knuckles together. "Don't get soft on me now. I'll see you on the other side."

He picked Rinzen up and set her on his motorcycle. He straddled his bike and the engine roared to life. Matt smiled and yelled, "We'll give 'em hell!"

Mello waved his hand to show he heard and zipped out of the lot and onto the street. Matt didn't move until his friend disappeared out of sight. He swallowed hard, realizing that would be the last time he would ever see Mello alive. He cleared his throat and went to his car, getting in. He loaded the smoke gun and turned onto the street. He looked at the clock in his car. They still had a few hours to kill. A few hours of life left. He parked his car underneath a bridge and pulled out one of his many game consoles and began to play for the last time.

He received a call from Mello about forty minutes before the sun was setting, telling him the location of the motorcade. Matt tossed his game in the backseat and turned his car back on. He drove to the motorcade. Mello passed him. He didn't acknowledge him. Takada was just leaving the building and he acted. He skidded into the lot, firing off the smoke gun. Takada and Halle disappeared in the plume of smoke. He heard exclamations of shock and confusion and tore out of NHN Studios. He looked over his shoulder and saw Mello parked in front of Takada, his helmet concealing his face. He looked away and saw several black cars following him.  
"Time to lose the heat." He stuck a new cigarette in his mouth and hit the gas.

* * *

He glanced worriedly at the needle pointing at half a tank of gas left. The persistent bodyguards were still after him after over an hour of him dodging in and out of traffic, pushing his poor car to its limits. He drifted onto another main road and grunted when he saw a barricade ahead.

He slammed on the brakes, the car briefly spinning out of control. It slid to a stop and the cars that had been following him blocked him in. Matt folded his arms on the steering wheel, staring indifferently at the men holding guns at him.

_So those cars got ahead of me, huh? How many damn bodyguards does one woman need?_

His brother suddenly popped in his head and he felt bad. Gear should have been the one to live, not him. He wasn't going to live much longer anyway. He opened the car door and stepped out, arms raised in surrender.

"Hey, c'mon, gimme a break! Since when were the Japanese allowed to carry such big guns?" He asked rhetorically, smiling playfully.

"You got me, I'm part of this whole kidnapping situation. That means you'll have a lot of questions to ask." The man nearest him had his safety off.

His smile turned into a confident smirk. "You won't shoot-"

The rain of bullets fell upon him and he stumbled back. The bullets tore easily through his body, an uncomfortable and painful sensation, pinging against the metal body of his car. He felt one lodge itself in his brain and the firing stopped. He stood there for a moment, staring up at the night sky with a small smile.

_Screw this world._

Matt fell against his car, taking one final drag of his cigarette, before the darkness closed in on him. His cigarette fell and extinguished itself on his blood soaked vest.

"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."

_It figures in my last moment of life I think of Isaac Asimov. He's right, though. I feel like I'm stuck in between. My body is dead, but my spirit is stuck. Is death supposed to be like this? I'm so tired, but I feel so alert._

_Mello, if you're still alive, I hope your transition is easier than mine_.


End file.
